


together...

by startswithhope



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Arguing, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, s5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 17:16:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18578986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: Summary: Set at some point in S5 before the proposal. Patrick’s stressed and David’s late and always calm and cool Patrick Brewer is not here today. Just a teeny bit of angst...and then some fluff.





	together...

Lifting his chin from his palm, Patrick rubs his eyes with his fingers, silently wishing the numbers on the ledger will magically change when they come back into focus. It’s not that things are dire, but he’s been keeping an eye on a trend that has him worried. So worried that he was still up at 3 am last night, wondering if he’d forgotten to take something into account. David had been at the motel after his weekly dinner night with Stevie, so the bed had already felt empty and cold. All combined, it had been a long, rough night with very little sleep.  


And David’s late. Again. It’s 10:15 and there’s been no sign or word from him, which probably meant that he slept in. Again. Patrick can feel annoyance begin to prickle beneath his skin, which isn’t a good sign. David’s lateness is usually just something Patrick enjoys poking fun at without any real malice behind it. Another one of their little back-and-forths where neither of them are able to hold back their smiles.

It’s not a good sign that a smile is far from Patrick’s mind. He should probably go home for the day. But he can’t. David’s not here.

Patrick isn’t one to normally get stressed. He’s quite proud of how even keel and adaptable he is, but when he gets nervous about something he really cares about, he can get a bit snippy and short tempered. And he’s definitely nervous, about the business, even if he’s possibly...just maybe...being a bit too cautious. He’s just not sure, hence the 3 am brainstorm session and his current obsession with the monthly ledger.

The bell above the door chimes and David saunters in, one hand pulling off his big white sunglasses while the other balances a shipping box.

“What’s that?” Patrick hears himself ask, not meaning to sound so accusatory, especially when he hasn’t even said hello yet.

David doesn’t seem to notice his tone, or at least he doesn’t outwardly react, so Patrick takes a calming breath. He really should get out of here.

“Oh, Mr. Hockley has a new earl grey blend he wants us to try to sell, so I had his nephew drive a box up to the hotel on his dirt-bike. It smells pretty good, so…”

“David, don’t you think you should…”

“It’s not drugs this time, I checked,” David interrupts as he drops the box in front of Patrick and walks around the register. The corner of the box lands on Patrick’s ledger, smudging some of the ink and bringing his blood to a rolling simmer. David is bending down to kiss Patrick’s cheek, and normally he’d lean into it and give him a smile, but the nervous, snippy demon inside of him is rearing to ugly life.

“I was trying to say that don’t you think you should check with me about how his other teas are selling before agreeing to a new order?”

David rears back, kiss abandoned as he looks at Patrick with confusion and a bit of defiance.

“Well, good morning to you, too.”

Patrick wants to apologize for snapping at him, but part of him really wants and answer to the question, so he stays quiet as David disappears into the back room with his shoulder bag. He isn’t back there long, emerging with a box of Mr. Hockley’s Chamomile tea, which sheepishly Patrick is now noticing needs to be restocked.

“I may not be the numbers guy, but I know what sells and what doesn’t Patrick,” David supplies as he sets the bags of tea on the display, his eyes darting over at Patrick as he fills up the near empty row.

Relenting, Patrick sighs and tries to smile as he replies, “Point taken.”

He knows he’s not doing a good job of it, but he’s feeling frayed and more than anything he just wants to start today over. Pushing off the desk, he makes his way over to David. When he doesn’t turn around to face him, Patrick just leans in and hugs him from behind, letting his hands splay open on the furry sweater covering David’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into David’s back, “and good morning.”

Relief washes over him when David’s hands cover his and give his fingers a gentle squeeze. He’s turning now and Patrick readjusts, letting his hands fall to David’s waist as their eyes meet and David’s hand comes up to cup his cheek. Feeling grounded by the touch, he closes his eyes for a moment, letting his body sway forward just a little knowing David will be there to catch him.

“Are you okay,” David quietly asks.

Opening his eyes again, Patrick nods, feeling a bit foolish now at his dramatics.

“Yeah, sorry, had trouble sleeping last night.”

David leans in at that and presses a soft kiss to Patrick’s lips, lingering for a second or two before pulling slightly back.

“Aww, did you miss me?” he jokes, the hand that was on Patrick’s cheek now sliding around his neck to run his fingernails through the short hair at the back of his head. And god does that feel good.

Leaning into it like a cat getting his morning scratch, Patrick mumbles, “miss you stealing my pillow? No, it wasn’t that.”

David’s nails scratch a tiny bit too hard and Patrick laughs, feeling infinitely lighter after just a minute of playful banter with the man he loves. He can see David trying to think of a comeback, so he just leans in to kiss him instead. As someone who does his best to eat healthy, he does truly love the cinnamon sugar he gets to taste on David’s lips and tongue every morning thanks to the cinnamon rolls at the hotel.

“At least I don’t wear dirty socks to bed,” David declares as soon as Patrick releases his lips, because of course he still managed to think of something to say back.

“That was once, David, and if you remember, it was only because someone pulled me back into bed after I’d put them on to start my day.”

Oh, what a great Sunday that had been.

David is obviously reveling in the same memory as Patrick finds himself being dragged closer. Instead of another kiss though, he gets a smile and questioning look.

“Other than a bad night’s sleep, what else brought Mr. Snippy to our store this morning?”

Whenever David refers to the store as “ours” Patrick always feels a wave of emotion, knowing that David thinks of this as theirs and not just his. But, it’s that knowledge that was making Patrick’s stress even more acute. The success of the business is inextricably entwined with the success of their relationship in Patrick’s mind as he doesn’t see how one can exist without the other. So, when he was seeing red in the ledger, he was seeing red everywhere.

Ignoring the “Mr. Snippy” reference, Patrick does his best to explain. “I’ve been going over the books and there’s been a downward trend I can’t seem to wrap my brain around. It’s not too steep, but something we should figure out sooner than later.”

David’s hands come up to hold the sides of Patrick’s shoulders, fingers squeezing lightly in that reassuring way he knows always works to calm him. “You’re right,  _we_  should probably figure it out. Together.”

The reassuring smile on David’s face and his complete lack of panic is welcome and a good reminder of just how far David has come since the first few weeks of opening the store. He really is a natural at all of this.

“Agreed. But do you mind if we do it tomorrow? I think I need to go home and get some sleep.”

David leans in and drops a kiss to Patrick’s head before literally turning him towards the door and giving him a little shove.

“Go, I’ll handle things here.”

Knowing the truth of that, Patrick doesn’t argue, but does pause at the door to turn back to David.

“I love you,” he declares, loving the bashful smile he gets in return.

“Love you, too,” David replies as he turns to walk behind the register.

Patrick is almost out the door when he hears David call out, “Oh, and there’s a little bag of Mr. Hockley’s original blend in the back of my drawer if you really want to relax.”

“I’ll wait until you get home. We can relax,  _together_.”


End file.
